His side of the story

This week’s Write on Edge prompt was:

This week we asked you to switch it up a little. If you typically write from the female perspective, we wanted you to try out the male point of view. And vice versa.

 

We can’t wait to see what you came up with in 300 words or less. Please only link up if you’ve done the prompt and be sure to visit as many links as you can.

My response is a bit of a cheat: I actually wrote most of this awhile ago, but I spent the last 30 minutes or so polishing it up.

Way back in December, my response to a prompt was about 2 people trying to get their Christmas tree in through the front door. Minor hilarity ensued, and the poor man in the scene was somewhat maligned by the woman.

As a refresher, the original story is here: Countdown.

Shortly thereafter, I started to write the scene from the man’s point of view, and this is the result (proudly clocking in at just 295 words!):


“Three, two, one…”

The tree popped through the door a little more quickly than I expected. I thought I heard a grunt, but Emma didn’t say anything, so I kept pushing.

Suddenly, I heard her shouting “Stop, Stop! Jeremy, you crazy man, stop!”

We had moved everything out of the way, so I knew we hadn’t knocked anything over, and since the tree was sliding in freely, I wasn’t sure what the problem was. I did stop, though and asked “What? What happened?” I tried to poke around and see inside the foyer.

“Jeremy, you were supposed to wait until I finished counting and THEN push.”

Oh for crying…yes, I waited, but YOU were the one that started counting before I was completely ready. I didn’t want to get in trouble for pushing too late. 

“Uh, isn’t that what I did?”

And even if I was early, what are you shouting about??

“Gah, no. You went on one and now I’m stuck under the tree.”

Oh shit…

“Will you stop moving it? Come through the back door so you can help me.”

Yes, dear…

I decided to stop and pull my boots off. Having her angry at me for taking too long was one thing, but if I’d tracked mud? She’d go through the roof, and I would have to clean the carpet. Again.

I tried not to laugh when I reached her and started lifting the tree. She crawled out, and I helped her up, brushing needles off as she stood. As soon as she met my eyes, she started to giggle and pretty soon we were both laughing.

“All right,” she said, “let’s get this tree set up and decorated. You grab that end, I’ll grab this one. Ready? Three, two, one…!”


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This entry was posted in Fiction.

3 comments

  1. Peggy says:

    I love reading these stories. This one made me see everything as it was happening! I also loved that they laughed instead of fighting. Many couples could learn from this short story.

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